


Punk Rock & Coffee Shops

by amandaithink



Series: Jim Kirk & the Cadets [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Music, Alternate Universe - Punk, Alternate Universe - Rockstar, Community: ksbigbang, Denial, M/M, Pre-Slash, Sexual Tension, some sexual situations with others, your general sex drugs and rock and roll warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 20:47:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2322662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amandaithink/pseuds/amandaithink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim Kirk is finally finding some measure of success outside of his parents shadows. Spock is valiantly trying to prove himself to the world and to his father. Then there's coffee. Podcasts. Dive bars. And always music.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My KSBigBang entry and first in the 'Jim Kirk & the Cadets' series.

With the final chords ringing out after their encore, Jim tossed his guitar down on the stage and did a stage dive into the crowd. Roadies existed for a reason and he was going to crowd surf his way to the bar. The set had been killer with the list showcasing a ton of tracks from their brand new album. Well, that was the point. It was their CD Release show, after all.

His band, _Jim Kirk & the Cadets_ had finally self produced another album - After Darkness. They had been playing the shit out of their first CD, Into Darkness, for almost 3 years and it was so awesome to finally have a new disc to offer their loyal fanbase. Sure, select tracks off of After Darkness were played for ages since they were written what felt like a century ago, but now he could hold the thing in his hands.

Seated at the bar, a chick with more tattoos than him had came up with the set list to get it signed. Well fuck, if that didn’t make him feel like a big shot. They had played a 10 song set - hey, it was their fucking release - with three encores. The bartender looked exhausted as Jim surveyed his crappy handwriting on the ripped and taped piece of paper.

BULLSHIT

WARPING INTO A TRAP

SHIPYARDS

IT’LL WORK

THE KELVIN

UNTIL THE COWS COME HOME

COMMAND

BORN IN THE STARS

IOWA

WHAT’D YOU SAY?

They had played ‘Numb Tongue’, ‘Enterprising Young Men’, and ‘Tarsus IV’ as encores. It had been a great show. He scrawled his name on the thing and handed it back to the chick.

“There you are!” Gary shouted, and the bassist proceeded to sit down on the stool next to him. “Dick move earlier, man, what the fuck.”

“This is our party dude are you saying you actually helped clean up?” Jim was so not in the mood to have another fight with Gary. It just wasn’t worth it.

“Whatever man, Gaila’ll get you when she finds you.”

Jim just shrugged. He was used to incurring Gaila’s wrath. Nothing new there. The three of them had been together since high school and now Gaila worked with him at _The Enterprise Coffee House_. Sure, they got a lot of gigs for a local band, but that still didn’t pay the rent. Not to mention all sorts of other expenses.

If he had anything to say about it, tonight was gonna be a good night.

 

With the final chords ringing out from Hikaru Sulu’s bass guitar, Spock sat down his headphones and looked at the rest of his ‘band members’. Federation Records had wanted a new band with a new sound, and so Spock as well as five other musicians had been thrown together to record an album. It was a conglomeration of writing styles, since no one felt inclined to adopt primary lyric writing duties. If someone had, they probably would have fought about it. Some of the members could fight about anything, while Spock did his best to stay neutral and not get involved.

They were still feeling each other out. It would take time, and none of them even knew if they would even still be a band in a few weeks time. It all depended on how the album did. Along with Sulu their band, _Starfleet_ , included; Montgomery ‘Scotty’ Scott and Leonard McCoy on lead and rhythm guitar respectively, Pavel Chekov - who was only 17 years old - on drums, and Nyota Uhura on lead vocals. Spock himself played piano and violin, trading the usual instruments for their electric counterparts for most of the songs on the album.

They were meant to be a rock group, not that Spock knew why. He preferred a more mellow sound and didn’t understand why the label had chosen to place him with these people and with such a goal in mind. He would not complain, though. It was a success to tell his still very skeptical father and would be an easy way for him to ‘break’ into the music industry, as they say. Colloquialisms would never make much sense to him.  

As it was, he was proud of what they created. It did not matter that the style was so much different from what he would have ever chosen. Now only time would tell.

 

“What did you do?!” Gaila asked with a squeal, running into the coffee shop and immediately hopping over the counter despite the fact that she wasn’t working today.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jim replied, honestly. He could have done any a number of things. Last night alone he had gone to a punk show and busted a dudes teeth in, smeared a jelly donut on his ex boyfriend’s door, and gave himself another ear piercing with a safety pin. Who knew what Gaila was talking about.

“I saw next years music schedule. You’re on for every Thursday! You’re going acoustic?!”

Oh right, that. Pike had finally allowed him the responsibility of making the music schedule and there was no way that Jim wasn’t going to take advantage of it. Doing acoustic sets wasn’t exactly ‘punk rock’ and only Gaila and Gary had really heard what he could do...but music was his life. One of his new years resolutions was going to be to focus on that.

Jim had grown up surrounded by music, he knew it up and down. There was more to his talent than 4 chord progression fast beat screaming and he was finally ready to admit to that. Haters gonna hate and all of that shit.

“JAMES TIBERIUS KIRK.”

Gaila’s eyes widened and they both watched as their boss, Chris Pike, stormed out of his office. Well, now or never.

“Sir…”

“What kind of stunt are you trying to pull here?!”

“Huh? No stunt, no stunt. We don’t usually do anything on Thursdays so I thought, why not get out the ol’ acoustic and jam a bit…?”

Pike sighed. He was never able to stay mad at Jim for long, and this had been true ever since Jim’s childhood. “I hope you’re prepared for this...fucking con artist…”

A 1000 watt grin stretched across Jim’s face and Pike couldn’t get away before both he and Gaila hugged him.

This would definitely be the start of something. Hopefully something good.

“Oh, but Jim?” Pike called back, pausing on the way to his office.

“Yeah?”

“You do five songs a night, and you can’t repeat a single one. Have fun.”

Well...the fuck.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah the chapters are really short and that's usually not what I'm about; I know.

It was New Years Day and Spock could tell that most members of his ‘band’ were hungover still from last nights proceedings as they were lead to the new penthouse apartment they all would be sharing in San Francisco.

“Shit, dude!” Sulu exclaimed, upon being the first to enter. Though not the wording Spock would have chosen, it was as accurate a statement as any.

The apartment was huge, furnished in a minimalistic style, and had expensive music related prints adorning the walls. Further inspection revealed a large and well stocked soundproofed practice room. It was a lot of luxury considering that there was no guarantee that Starfleet would be a commercial success.

“What do you think?” Nyota asked him later, after the record execs and interns had gone and they were seated on the living room couch, a fire going in the electric grate. The others had all went out, either to a club or a party...Spock was not sure, as they had all left so suddenly. He wasn’t even certain that the members had the same destination.

“It will adequately suit our needs,” Spock replied, finding his gaze drawn to the flames. The moment felt surreal and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with that.

 

It was chilly, and the wind seemed to be able to find it’s way through all of the winter gear that Spock had donned when he decided to go out in search of some good coffee. He pulled his hat down more snuggly around his ears and tried to stop the elements from whipping his scarf around, but the effort seemed to be futile.

Not too far from his apartment he came across _The Enterprise Coffee House_. He did not know if it was just due to proximity in the cold or the fact that the name reminded him of the fifth track on their album (something that Scotty had written, seemingly about a ship) but he decided to give the place a chance.

Inside it had a nice homey feel, mixed with a noticeable grungy music taste. Flyers were everywhere all over the walls and modge podged onto the tables. Spock sat on the couch and divested himself of a majority of his outerwear before going up to the counter to get his much needed caffeine.

“Do you like music?” the red-headed barista, her nametag read ‘Gaila’, asked him cheerily after she had begun to make his drink.

“Indeed,” Spock replied with a raised eyebrow. He had difficulty imagining someone saying ‘no’ to that question. Music seemed to be an intrinsic part of the human existence.

“Well I mean, do you like it or do you _really_ like it? Because if you’re new in town, and sorry if you’re not I just haven’t seen you around, we put on a lot of shows and you seem like if you were really into music you’d like the acoustic moody kind of thing and tomorrow’s gig is exactly that.”

The girl seemed to have a tendency for rambling. Spock just nodded and took the offered beverage when the time came, before sitting back down on the couch. Despite her annoying manner of interacting with unassuming customers, he noticed the month’s concert schedule and found that Gaila was right. A lot of music would be played here and every Thursday seemed to be devoted to the acoustic talents of one ‘Jim Kirk’.

It couldn’t hurt to return to listen. He was tired of listening to his bandmates-turned-roommates preferred music choices. And there was nothing that could replace a live performance.

 

“What are you doing?” Jim asked as he tuned his guitar and watched Gaila mess around with a variety of microphones attached to her laptop.

“Getting ready to record your podcast,” she informed him lazily, as if they had already discussed this.

“Podcast?!”

“It’s going to make you famous, Jimmy!” she exclaimed, finally sitting down the computer in order to adjust the microphones around him and shove a pick in his hand.

“Yeah, right.”

Gaila didn’t dignify that comment with a reply and instead gave him the go ahead. Jim had 5 songs prepared and all of them started with the letter ‘A’. Themed sets seemed like the thing to do, and he had 52 sets lined up...so the first 26 were the alphabet...and then maybe the next 10 were numbers...so what?

 

_Feeling through the airwaves_

_Like a snake’s tongue_

_My senses are all mixed up_

_I can tell I’m losing attention_

_Fuck spacewaves, I’ve got an iPod extension_

 

The coffee house disappeared from around him and Jim started to get into the music. He played ‘Airwaves’, ‘Astronomy’, ‘Apocalypse’, ‘Andoria’, and ended with the song ‘Autumn’.

 

_You feel much cooler now_

_Oh so much cooler now_

_You’re chill like a sweater_

_Breaking what we’ve got together_

 

Before he knew it, the whole thing was done and there were actual applause. From Gaila he expected the reaction, but he couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering to a very gorgeous, very serious looking dark haired man. The regulars, he expected. There was a certain loyalty involved with frequenting _Enterprise_...but this guy was new.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Spock found that he liked _The Enterprise Coffee House_ and his return there the next day had nothing to do with the way Jim Kirk’s music resonated in his bones. This time Scotty and Sulu were coming along as well. Montgomery had been enthralled by the name of the shoppe and Sulu just needed some caffeine in his blood if he was going to get through their practice. There was really no reason for Spock to think that he would see Jim Kirk there the next day. However that is exactly what happened.

Jim smiled at them from behind the counter when they walked in and out of the cold. Hikaru and Scotty immediately began to take in their surroundings, leaving Spock to become locked in an unstated staring contest with the barista. For reasons he did not understand, he couldn’t will himself to break the other man’s gaze.

“Looks like a great place!” Scotty said cheerily, breaking the moment as he ambled up to the counter.

“It really is, and they don’t pay me near enough to lie about that,” Jim said with a laugh, “You guys should come to the show tonight. Dunno if you’ve ever heard of _The Empire_ , but they’re a local punk band and the guys are really cool.”

Spock silently made an appraisal of the tattoos covering Jim’s arms and neck, his stretched lobes and numerous other ear piercings. An eyebrow ring. Snakebites on his lips. Those had all been present at his set last night, but Spock’s focus had been on the music. Everything else had faded into the background.

“What can I get you?”

Spock looked up from his musings, tilting his head to the side as Montgomery ordered something that didn’t even sound like a real beverage. Sulu ordered an Americano before Spock took his turn. He did not remember ordering the latte he received, but he does remember the exact way Jim Kirk’s lips had moved, and the way his golden hair had looked in the sunlight. It was all very troubling.

“I saw you at my set last night,” the barista/musician commented after handing Spock his beverage.

“Yes, you performed most admirably. Your coworker is quite...interesting.”

“Oh, Gaila? She was just making a podcast for some bullshit reason,” Jim waved it off, busying his hands with cleaning a glass mug.

“I see,” was all Spock could think to say before he left the man to his job and joined Sulu and Scotty by the door where they were waiting to head back to the apartment. They had a busy day ahead...a busy week, a busy month...as long as _Starfleet_ did well, they would not have much free time to speak of.

Spock did spend a moment to regret not being able to sit down and drink his beverage at the cafe. He did not, however, return that night to attend the punk show with his bandmates. Punk had never been a preferred genre of his, and time alone was becoming a precious commodity.

 

All day everyone in _Starfleet_ had been having jitters. This would be their first real show together, not to mention the kickoff for their tour. So when the crowd went wild for their opening band, Spock jerked up from his seat on top of an amp and walked over to see what was going on. The others followed without a question.

He would have recognized that hair and those tattoos anywhere. Jim Kirk, with Gaila on drums and another heavily inked man on bass, was playing a fast, loud punk song. It was worlds different from the music that Jim played during his acoustic coffee house sets.

 

_Take a deep breath_

_You screamed_

_Your lungs out_

_Last night_

 

The rapport the band - apparently entitled _Jim Kirk & the Cadets_ \- had with the crowd spoke of a status much higher than any ordinary local group performance Spock had ever witnessed. Then again, Spock was not a ‘punk’ and did not frequent punk shows.

Still. It was a surprise to see him there.

It was a lesson in juxtaposition to now hear the music that Jim performed on that stage.

 

“That was fucking awful,” McCoy complained as they got off stage. Spock was inclined to agree. He did not know who decided that they should play after _Jim Kirk & the Cadets_, but obviously that individual knew nothing about how to create a proper musical lineup.

They got backstage to see the members of said punk band lounging around, idly drinking and messing with their instruments.

“Hey, good show!” Gaila said, leaping up once she noticed them.

Jim’s head popped up from where he had been lazily making chord progressions on his guitar, eyes meeting Spock’s immediately. It took effort, much more effort than it should have, to pull away from the other man’s gaze.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Uhura groused with a roll of her eyes, “that sucked so bad. You guys are the ones who put on a good show.”

It was true. Despite his carefully suppressed emotions, Spock found himself furious.

“For a novice band, you did manage an above par performance,” Spock ground out, tossing his violin on the couch and escaping out a backdoor. Already he was tired of this venture.

Living with the others tried his patience as it was, and if they were not even capable of a good performance there was no point in continuing. McCoy complained constantly, and Scott ate more than his fair share of the food. Chekov claimed that everything was invented in Russia, and Sulu had covered the apartment with all kinds of strange plants. No one could agree on anything, be it music or leisure. There was no peace to be found in any of it.

If not for the miles of contract red tape he would have to go through, Spock would quit now before investing too much of his time on a pointless endeavor. Instead, he took a deep breath and watched the air fog around him in the cold alley.

This was their first show. They would do better.

They _must_ do better.

He would not allow them to fail.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Music was filling the place when Spock walked into _the Enterprise_ on the Thursday before they were to leave for LA. He had managed to forget about Jim Kirk in the time since their disastrous first show but now that he remembered, he felt incredibly guilty for the way he must have come off afterwards.

 

_Let’s start over_

_Back to beginnings, let’s just_

_Wipe away everything_

_All the pain that came before_

 

Spock waited until Jim finished his set. It wasn’t often that he felt he truly owed someone an apology, but this was one of those rare instances.

“Hello,” he greeted tentatively, walking up to the young musician as he was packing up.

“Hey,” Jim replied, not bothering to look up from what he was doing.

With a deep breath, Spock summoned the nerve to continue. “I would like to apologize for my words and behavior the other night...we are all under a lot of stress from our label over the formation of our band, and I may have not handled our first performance very well.”

“No kidding,” he said with a scowl, finally looking up and arresting Spock in his hard blue gaze. Never before had Spock seen eyes quite like Jim’s.

“I understand if you are angry and do not wish to forgive me.” That wasn’t completely a lie...though Spock didn’t understand why he so wanted the other man’s forgiveness. He did not need Jim Kirk’s approval. It would not impact his life in any way if this man did not care for him.

“No, we’re cool,” Jim said with a sigh, “I can be a dick myself, sometimes.” He didn’t know why, but Jim wanted to keep talking to this guy. “My name’s Jim, by the way, Jim Kirk.”

“Spock,” was the succinct reply. Neither of them offered to shake hands. So it made absolutely no sense when Spock, moments later, invited Jim to their show in LA on Saturday. Or that Jim said yes.

 

Jim didn’t hate _Starfleet_. It wasn’t his exact cup of tea, but he was sure it wasn’t even most of the musicians in it’s deal either. He would never understand record labels and the musicians they hired at random to throw into projects. For a starting band just getting into the groove of things they were doing alright, though. Well...alright-ish.

 

_I want adventure_

_You and I_

_We’ve got potential_

 

Nyota sang with confidence. Yeah, he was pretty sure that they’d figure it out in the next album or two...if their label gave them that long. After the show he spent a lot of time talking with the members whenever he wasn’t following Spock around as they actually helped pack up all the stuff. Bones may have ended up calling him an ungrateful brat at one point when he mentioned that they paid people to do that for them.

And by ‘Bones’ he meant Leonard McCoy, but what kind of a name is Leonard? Especially for a musician. Well he’s now a musician in an indie band, but Jim was ignoring that technicality. Once McCoy told him that he could feel jazz music in his bones it was settled. Bones was one grumpy bastard, though, and didn’t really appreciate the nickname. Well he’d see. It would totally catch on, Jim was going to make sure of it.

Scotty was awesome. Jim could easily recognize a kindred spirit, and left their conversation with a long list of punk bands from the UK (primarily Scotland, no surprise) to check out when he got home. Hikaru also rocked, though they ended up talking more about their piercings and tattoos than about music. Who wants to talk about music constantly anyway? Okay fine, Jim could talk music until someone put him in the ground but that wasn’t important.

Nyota wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. Should he have hit on her? Probably not, but she had seemed to get on with Gaila after their show together so he thought she might be more easy going. Dead wrong. Uhura - because apparently he is not allowed to use her first name since they ‘don’t know each other that well’ - takes herself and her music very seriously. In a way Jim can appreciate that, but it also reminds him too much of his mother.

Pavel is a nice kid, the fucking prodigey. Their conversation on musical theory was a little stilted though, since he kept drifting into Russian whenever he got really excited. If they ever met up again, Jim would just have to brush up on his Russian, because switching back and forth was more difficult than it should have been. When he was younger his mother gave up singing for awhile to play in the orchestra for the Russian ballet and she brought him on tour with her while Sam stayed with their grandparents for school. The dancers loved him. Of course once he told that to Pavel the kid got so excited that all they talked about was Russia.

“I find you fascinating,” Spock had said after having actually walked Jim to his car.

“You’re pretty fascinating yourself,” had been Jim’s reply. And it was true. Jim talked to everyone, yeah, but he spent most of the time talking with Spock. Spock who was so incredibly interesting in his talents and views on music but also in his views on everything else, from politics to fashion to scientific theory.

Jim’s a punk kid with a rap, he knows that and so does everyone that knows him. That doesn’t mean he isn’t smart, though, and a lot of people forget that. They just look at him and make a bunch of assumptions. Well, not all of them are true.

They may have almost kissed...he really wasn’t sure.

When he got back to San Francisco he felt all antsy, like he had when he’d driven a car off a cliff as a kid. Probably shouldn’t repeat that one...but he did kind of want to tell Spock that story, just to see how the other man would react. He’d definitely get a lecture about danger and risking his life. For only being a few years older than Jim, Spock seemed to have the maturity that most parents could only hope to obtain by the time they had to start teaching their children how to behave. Good from bad. Right from wrong.

And Jim didn’t really know why he would be attracted to that. So that meant he would not be telling Gaila any of this. Best friend or not, the last thing he needs is her trying to get online again to try and use psychology to figure him out.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fyi: some jim/omc for a hot second

A quick search and a few clicks later and Spock had subscribed to Jim Kirk’s acoustic podcast. A screen prompted him to download ‘Set A’ and ‘Set B’, as well as informing him when the live broadcast would be. This was how he found himself sitting on the bed of a hotel room in San Diego listening to Jim Kirk’s ‘Set C’ on his iPhone.

 

_I wasn’t ready for you to go_

_I didn’t really know what to say_

_And I know that it’s not for good_

_But come back, I wanna make you stay_

 

Just a few hours away Kirk was performing this song live at _the Enterprise_ and Spock felt strange with the way he wished he was there. It was illogical - he was still able to listen to the show live and that was what it was all about. The music, if anything, was more his this way. At least, that is what he kept telling himself.

 

There was no denying it; James Tiberius Kirk loved feeling like a rockstar. Lately he was feeling it more and more as the gigs they played had less people he knew and more strangers. It used to be that everyone who came to see _Jim Kirk & the Cadets_ had went to high school with them, or knew them from the music scene and felt compelled to support the effort. This whole ‘cult following’ thing that was starting to go on was kinda nice.

So it wasn’t very hard to slip into the back with this hot, pale, brunette dude. He barely had to try to pick the guy up. It was like batting his eyes and getting exactly what he wanted. Without even asking for a name, Jim had the man pressed up against the wall as they made out. They thrusted against each other in time to the loud music playing in the club.

The other man groaned when Jim moved so that their equally hard cocks were rubbing against each other through their layers of clothing. Kirk wasn’t sure what he wanted. It was either get a blowjob here, or take the guy back to his place and fuck him. He supposed, as the other man began to undo the fastenings on Jim’s trousers, that he could always have his cake and eat it, too.

Within moments his dick was engulfed in the wet heat of the guy’s mouth, and Jim couldn’t stop himself from grabbing onto the other man’s hair in an attempt to keep himself from moving. Instead he watched himself being deepthroated, the dark hair bobbing up and down. Jim didn’t bother stifling his moan, it wasn’t like anyone could hear him anyway. Not that he’d care if they did.

Eventually Jim came, thrusting slightly into the other man’s mouth. After spitting the cum onto the floor, the dude looked up and that’s when Jim realized that he had been imagining Spock going down on him the entire time. Fuck that.

He took the guy home anyway.

 

To say that Jim was distracted would be an understatement. He spent most of his shift glued to his phone, googling _Starfleet_ and trying to learn as much about Spock Grayson as he could. Pike was not impressed.

Apparently customers had complained, and Jim Kirk _never_ got complaints. Well, never was a stretch. Since there were always those certain douchebags from other bands that just had to pick a fight with him when he was on the clock. Holding back wasn’t his strong suit.

Complaints about their barista reciting _Starfleet_ facts and glued to google, though? That was a new one.

Jim just couldn’t stop. By the end of his shift, he had memorized an endless amount of seemingly useless trivia. The drawbacks of having an eidetic memory.

He was seriously off his game.

 

The show at _the Enterprise_ went well. They always went well, he and Gaila worked there. Out of all the shows they played in a given month, the best turnout was almost always guaranteed to be for their _Enterprise_ show. It was both a blessing and a curse.

The curse part happened because Jim could never get away with hitting on anyone after these shows. Not without getting cockblocked by either his friends or his coworkers. Not to mention the disapproving stare that Pike would level his way.

It did make him feel better, though, playing a show. More like himself than he’d felt since going to that _Starfleet_ concert in LA. For that entire set and for a few hours afterwards he was actually able to forget that Spock existed, to stop worrying about what it meant that he couldn’t get the guy out of his head.

Sure, when he got back to his apartment he was alone, but he had a pleasant buzz and was able to pass out on his couch into a nice dreamless sleep. Spock was just a phase, and he was almost definitely getting out of it.

 

Vegas had been the highlight of most of Spock’s bandmates’ conversations for weeks. Now that they were finally there, apparently ‘all bets were off’ according to Scotty. Spock didn’t see any of them until a few hours before the concert.

“You are inebriated,” he stated bluntly, all but glaring at Hikaru and Scotty. Whilst Montgomery just shrugged it off, at least Sulu had the decency to look marginally chastised. Apparently ‘it’s Vegas’ was a logical excuse for their lack of professionalism. Spock did not agree with their assessment.

It was no surprise that their performance was less than stellar, and he was beginning to wonder if he was the only member who took this seriously as afterwards all of his bandmates had went to the casino to get spectacularly drunk. It was less than ideal, and Spock found himself spending the evening alone in his hotel room listening to podcasts.

He was not wishing that his band had half the cohesion that Jim Kirk’s punk act did. He was not wishing that their lyrics and melody were half as enthralling as Jim Kirk’s acoustic work. As it was, this musician was just a phase - all artistic obsessions were. The fact that he knew the man behind the music was irrelevant.

Jim Kirk was just a phase, and it would pass like all of the others.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

It was relaxing, Jim realized, as he went through the quick set up for his weekly acoustic session. Gaila had quickly become a pro at getting the podcast ready and was done way before him. That was fine. Only a few more minutes and Jim was in a whole different musical world.

 

_I want you to convince me_

_You know you always egg me on_

_This lifes a fight_

_And for some reason you think I’m strong_

 

The next night played out much differently. _Blue Skirts_ , Carol and Christine’s pop group, had just performed at _the Enterprise_ and true to form Gaila and them had dragged him out to a rave afterwards. All of the girls in his life were insane.

“How are you doin’, sweetie?” Carol asks him, grinding against him on the dance floor. It wasn’t serious skank dancing, just the skank dancing done between friends. They had tried it once and were both too slutty to want a real relationship. Friends with benefits? They pulled that card sometimes, but only in case of emergency. They both preferred brunettes. Even though Jim was almost certain that Carol and Christine had something going on. Gaila would know - he’d have to ask her later.

“I’m fine...you?”

“Oh, I am excellent. But a little birdie told me you have a crush,” she replied with a wicked eyebrow raise.

“Yeah? And did this birdie happen to be named ‘Gaila’?” he asked, annoyed. He did not have a crush on Spock, dammit.

“Maybe,” she hinted, sliding down his body like a stripper. Jim didn’t want to talk about this, and the look on his face communicated that to Carol just fine.

The rest of the night was a blur.

 

They were all at a bar in Austin. Spock did not usually drink, and now was not one of the occasions where he would choose to. His bandmates, on the other hand, were more than willing to pay for the overpriced beverages.

At some point in the evening Scotty and Leonard headed over to play darts, and Pavel challenged Hikaru to a drinking competition. Spock found himself left at the table with Nyota, which usually wasn’t an issue. He liked Nyota, they were good friends...but the atmosphere at the table was strange and heavy this evening.

“Hey Spock,” she said, seemingly suddenly though Spock had a feeling that she had been considering speaking for quite some time, “I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”

“Go ahead,” Spock encouraged, raising an eyebrow in interest.

“Well, over the past few months we’ve become pretty good friends, right?” He nodded in affirmative. “Well, I was thinking…I like you, Spock. A lot, actually.”

This was unexpected. Spock, at first, did not know how to respond. In the silence that followed her confession, Nyota became very twitchy and seemed increasingly nervous.

“It is not that I do not find you attractive, nor that I do not value your company,” Spock began tactfully, “but I must be honest in that I do not return your affections in...that manner. Furthermore if something were to develop in the direction of a romantic nature it would be highly inappropriate as we are bandmates and the strain of a relationship is not conducive to the healthy workings of a musical group.” His answer was logical, but he could tell that Uhura was not pleased.

“So what you’re saying is that even though it’s possible that you could like me like that, you think we should just be friends because of the band?”

“I suppose that is an adequate summary,” Spock allowed.

She rolled her eyes and downed the rest of her drink rather impressively. Spock found that he no longer wished to be ‘hanging out’ in this bar. However he did wait a half an hour before excusing himself to return to the hotel in an effort to make Nyota feel more comfortable...though he could not say if it had worked.

 

There were many words Spock could use to describe his feelings towards Jim Kirk’s weekly acoustic podcasts. However ‘obsessed’ was not one of them, even though his bandmates seemed to find it an apt description. He had just finished showing Nyota and Leonard the ‘F’, ‘G’, and ‘H’ sets and the room was oddly silent.

“Your thoughts?” he prodded.

“That’s Jim Kirk, the singer of _Jim Kirk & the Cadets_, right?” Nyota asked, and Spock confirmed with a nod.

“How am I supposed to believe that that snotty little punk can make this kind of music?” Leonard huffed, taking a sip of his drink and rewinding the ‘H’ set cast to repeat a song.

“I had first heard him play an acoustic set and found it quite...surprising when he played in his band at our tour opening.”

“Well it’s...very different. He’s actually good.” Spock didn’t understand why Nyota seemed so shocked at this.

“Obviously people like his band too, if you’re into that whole loud fast bullshit,” McCoy mumbled, most of his attention still on the ‘cast.

Spock was disturbed at how pleased he was that his bandmates enjoyed Jim’s podcast. It should not affect him so; he had no involvement or investment in the other man’s work. He did not want to admit it, but found himself very confused when things came to Jim Kirk.

Both Leonard and Nyota insisted that he show the ‘casts to the others. Why they could not do it themselves was beyond him, as he had watched them both subscribe to the feed. Asking questions about his bandmates intentions though, he had learned, was a waste of time. It often left him with more questions than answers and just generally confused by their state of mind and overall illogic.   
“This is bloody fuckin’ brilliant! I didnae think the kid had it in him,” Scotty had praised.

“Shit. Why are you showing me this? This just depresses me,” Sulu said before pretending to collapse onto his bass.

“Why does this ‘depress’ you?” Spock regretted asking as soon as the question left his lips. Had he not just been thinking of the futility this course of action always lead?

“We’re this signed band with an album out and a fucking stupid video playing on half-assed music channels, right? We’re on a national tour. Yet here I am being bested by this kid from San Fran who works at a coffee shop. And you just know that he is always getting laid. Why are we doing this? I’d be more of a rockstar right now if I left _Starfleet_ and begged Kirk to let me be in his band. I’m definitely better than his current bassist.”

True to form, Spock left the conversation confused and slightly annoyed. He would not admit that the notion of Jim Kirk ‘always getting laid’ is what caused him such frustration. It was more likely that the emotion stemmed from his band’s bassist being so flippant about his commitment to their current endeavor.

“Zis is reminding me of artist in Russia. Is very good. We could possibly be adding him to group, no?” Chekov inquired, after his listen.

“Illogical, we already have more than enough artists. I also doubt he would enjoy our genre of music nor the creative control he would have to give up as a result.”

“Da, is wery true.”

At least Pavel had not similarly tried to talk himself into becoming a ‘Cadet’. Imagination had a time and a place, and Spock was disheartened that he soon found himself drifting into space, imagining what it would be like if Jim Kirk were a member of _Starfleet_. It did not bode well that this daydream almost always ended up in flames, a few times even literally.

Jim Kirk was an unknown variable. He had an edge about him, something violent and still untapped. Imagining his reactions to different scenarios was ridiculous. Spock did not know this man - he was unpredictable.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

The gig hadn’t been the greatest, and Jim wouldn’t have said that he was having a good night. When ‘Cupcake’ - he never bothered to learn the real name of _The Wrath of Khan_ ’s subpar drummer - walked into the place.

“Oh look who it is,” the ogre commented upon laying eyes on Jim, “it’s Mr. Big-Shot Acoustic, thinks he can get away with pretending he’s a punk.” No one would ever say that Jim Kirk was known for controlling his temper, and he didn’t hesitate to throw the first punch. The kid had been asking for it.

In the end, three other dudes jumped in on Cupcakes side and Jim ended up being driven to the hospital by Gaila after breaking his arm. There was a circle of hell for douchebags who don’t fight fair.

“That guy should be banned from every venue in the area,” he complained once he’d been released and they were on their way back to his place.

“Yeah, but if they started banning people for fighting there wouldn’t be a lot of venues you would be allowed in either,” Gaila replied. That wasn’t really the direction Jim was going, so he dropped the subject.

 

Jim was able to play ‘Set J’ in a cast, not that Spock knew this as he listened to the podcast in the car.

 

_I hope they locked you up_

_Your a dick_

_I know you wanna see me jailed_

_That’s a laugh_

_I’m not just another failure_

 

The songs of this set were particularly angry and melancholy.

 

_Maybe I’m just a joke_

_Maybe I’m just your jester_

_I don’t wanna be alone_

_But maybe I’m just a joke_

Spock found himself worried about Jim’s mental health. It seemed as though he came up with the sets as they arrived, since the mood often changed with the different weeks. Even as he thought this, a whole new worry eclipsed the first; how had he become so invested in a man that he barely knows?

It was unsettling, to say the least.

 

They were grabbing coffee in Boston before heading to their soundcheck when it happened.

Outside the shop, as they were getting ready to reenter their bus after acquiring as much caffeinated beverages as possible, a group of young adults, Spock could not easily tell their ages, were talking in a circle. This alone wouldn’t be enough to get him or any of his bandmates to pay attention, but for one thing that popped out of the conversation. _Jim Kirk & the Cadets._

“Oh isn’t there a show tonight in California?”

“Yes, oh my god I wish I could be there. Did you hear their new album?”

“Duh, I only downloaded it the day it was released.”

“You heard about the lead singer, right?”

“What a badass.”

Spock tuned out the rest of the conversation, even though Hikaru and Chekov seemed to still be avidly listening. He felt...strange.

“What the fuck was that?” Leonard asked them as a collective whole once everyone was back in the bus.

“I can’t believe that band is this popular,” Nyota admitted, seemingly flabbergasted.

“You should not be so surprised. You said yourself that the band was obviously well-liked by those who enjoy that genre of music,” Spock found himself replying, even though he was just as taken aback.

“Da, they are wery popular group in San Francisco...but that is being local and this is...not local…national, even.”

Spock could not deny Chekov’s logical assessment. They were all resigned to remain in the dark as to the impact of one unsigned punk band from California.

 

Jim was not pining for Spock. He just...was interested in how Starfleet was doing. At least, that’s what he told himself as he watched a live interview the group was doing in NYC. His motives were pure, dammit. Or as pure as his motives could ever be, considering.

“ _You all come from very different musical backgrounds, so I imagine your taste in music is very different. What have you been listening to recently?_ ” the host asked the group

“ _Well I myself have nae found anything worth mentioning lately, but I believe our Spock here has. An’ I’d have to agree, the lad is talented._ ”

Jim definitely did not pirk up as Spock, rather uncomfortably he thought, began to speak.

“ _Yes, I have been subscribed to a podcast of a local artist in San Francisco. Just recently before coming to this interview I listened to Jim Kirk’s ‘K’ and ‘L’ sets. He is a very talented musician and I think his acoustic sets are remarkable._ ”

“Holy fuck,” Jim whispered before pausing the feed on his computer, “holy fucking shit.”

 

“Jim, calm down.” Gaila seemed nervous, Jim didn’t know why. He wasn’t dangerous or anything.

“Live TV! Live fucking television. I just got name dropped on live fucking television by Spock fucking Grayson!” he shouted. It was a good thing that Gaila lived in the apartment across the hall. Made it so much easier when he freaked out like this.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“How many people are subscribed to that podcast anyway? Hey don’t just look now, I know you knew before that aired, I wanna know before I just got outed on national television.”

“Just a couple hundred, I think? Like...like 649? Small number, really.”

Jim’s jaw dropped and he stared at her blankly. “649...you think 649 subscriptions is a small number.” How he managed to keep his voice steady, he didn’t know.

“It is a small number. Especially since I have the page up now, so I know exactly how many subscriptions you have.”

“Do I want to know?”

“Probably not.”

“Tell me.”

“Not until you explain to me why you’re acting like Spock told everyone you sucked dick on national tv. When you came out in middle school there was like...zero drama practically. At least zero drama from your end, everyone else freaked out and you weren’t even like...exclusively gay I mean. Not that anyone knew what the fuck a pansexual was, we were 13 Jimmy.”

“Wait, what?” he was lost now. So fucking lost.

“You said that he ‘outed you on national television’.”

“Gaila! I broke my arm because of those acoustic sets just in the last week! My credibility as a punk musician is going to go down the drain, oh my god! I would have rather he said that he wanted me to suck hi-”

“Enough, enough I got it. And you wish Jimmy-boy,” she laughed.

“Shut up, tell me the number.”

“I said you don’t want to know.”

“I can take it.”

“Maybe...if you guess.”

“3,000?”

“Higher.”

“5,000,” Jim guessed, grabbing one of Gaila’s couch cushions and squeezing it like a stressball.

“Higher.”

“7,500?” he asked, hopefully.

“Keep going.”

“What? Are you kidding me? 10,000. If it’s higher than 10,000 I’m never leaving my apartment again.”

Gaila didn’t say a word after that, and instead hid behind her computer.

“Just tell me already, I can’t stand the anticipation!”

“Promise me you won’t quit the acoustic sets, and that you won’t quit the podcasts.”

“What?! Of course I’m quitting the podcasts, are you fucking kidding me right now?!”

“James Tiberius Kirk, I swear, if you do I will quit the band.”

Some miracle had kept his headache at bay before, but now it was hitting him full force, migraine-style. “Fine. Fine I promise. Now tell me.”

“21,893 and rising.”

“FUCK THIS.”

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fyi: very brief jim/ofc

Leonard didn’t know why he was surprised to walk into Spock watching a concert livestream from California of _Jim Kirk & the Cadets_. The poor guy was obsessed and he didn’t even know it. What got McCoy worried, though, didn’t have anything to do with Spock and everything to do with the decaying cast and the tender way Jim Kirk himself was carrying his broken arm.

It hadn’t been too hard to pull out his phone and find the coffee place’s number. He knew from the others that Jim worked there, so someone should be able to get ahold of the kid before gangrene or tetanus left the kid with only one arm and shot his music career to hell. Sure, there were one armed drummers, but you can’t have a one armed guitarist.

“Hello?” a man answered the phone, speaking loudly over the music.

“Hey, this is important, I need you to get somewhere that you can hear me,” McCoy shouted into the phone, paying no mind to Spock’s annoyed glances in his direction and leaving the room himself. He ended up being on the phone for the next hour and a half until Jim’s drummer, that lovely Gaila, could convince him to let her take him to the hospital. What a waste of an evening.

 

“This sucks,” Jim complained, even though the worst of his hospital stay was already over. They were just waiting on the nurse to discharge him and give him his prescription for some antibiotics and low level painkillers.

“You’re the idiot who let his arm get all fucked to hell. What did you even do?” Gary asked, annoyed even as he swiveled in the doctor’s chair.

“Shush boys, no fighting in the ER,” Gaila chided, not even bothering to look up from the magazine she had swiped from the waiting room.

“How did Bones even know about my arm anyway?”

“He saw it on the livestream. His dad was a doctor,” Gaila replied offhandedly.

“I didn’t even know we had a livestream,” was Gary’s response.

“Yeah, me either.” When Gaila glanced up Jim was glaring daggers at her.

“Just because I know how to use technology to better our circumstances-”

“This is like the podcast thing all over again!” Jim exclaimed.

“What? Not it’s not! If anything, livestreams of our punk shows increases your-”

“It makes us look like sellouts! Back me up, Gary.”

“No way, I am not getting in the middle of this. Innocent audience member, thanks.”

“You’re in the band too, asshole. Have a goddamn opinion.”

“Fine. I’m on Gaila’s side.”

“Fuck you both, then.”

“Oooh you got it baby, give it to me,” Gaila joked, making eyes and urging him closer. That, of course, was the moment that the nurse walked in.

 

Gaila watched as Jim sat at the bar, flirting with a gorgeous brunette who she could totally see being Spock in girl form. She knew that if she brought it up, he’d get all defensive and probably kick the chick to the curb. That wouldn’t do. She would wait and bring it up later, after Jim had had sex and was in a good mood.

Jim, of course, didn’t notice his best friend watching him. His focus was on all 5’9’’ plus heels of Vivian. Girls got pissy if you asked to skip the names, but she had legs that went forever and he was definitely bringing her back to his place so it was worth learning what she called herself.

“How would you feel about heading back to my apartment?” he asked.

“I thought you’d never ask,” she replied with a smirk.

 

It had been awhile since Spock had gotten to spend quality time with his mother, and so he was glad when she made the extra time to spend with him and to see their show when they arrived in Vancouver. It had been the event that made McCoy realize that Spock was not American. Apparently his interest in Canadian politics and lack of knowledge in anything traditionally American had not been enough of a hint.

“It was nice meeting your friends, dear,” his mother said from across the table at the diner they had gone to for lunch. Spock had been coming here since he was a child - it was his mother’s favourite.

“I believe at this juncture you could refer to my bandmates as such,” Spock allowed. His mother laughed and conversation moved on to the tour and music in general. This, inevitably, lead to talk of Jim Kirk.

“Oh? Would this be James Kirk, George Kirk’s son?” she asked, seeming to be interested.

“Indeed. Do you know a lot about Jim’s parents? I know only what I have managed to find online.”

“I only know what everyone knows. His father was in a rock band, he married Winona who was a pop singer at the time. During her European tour she went into early labour and George got on a flight to be with her. You know what happens next.”

“The plane crashed. There were no survivors.”

“Yes. It was very sad. He died at the same time his son was born. Winona was never able to sing pop music after that. She’s a blues artist now.”

“I was unaware that Jim’s mother was still a working musician.” Spock allowed the implications of his statement to be left unsaid. Working musicians and family life were not two things that went well together.

“That’s what surprises me, that Jim lives in San Francisco. I’m pretty sure Winona Kirk reportedly has houses in Paris, New Orleans, and Iowa.”

Spock did not know what to think of this new information and what it must mean for Jim, a man he barely knew, and his relationship with his mother. It was a relief when they changed to a more comfortable topic of conversation.

This did not keep the thoughts from resurfacing much later, when he was back in his hotel room. His mother had insisted that he stay with her at the family home, but the label had already paid for his room. The added bonus that he would not have to interact with his father was left unsaid, the unspoken elephant in the room.

 

Gaila did not allow elephants to enter any room. So when she walked into _Enterprise_ , she got right up on the counter next to Jim and slung her arm around his shoulder.

“You know Pike hates it when you do that.”

“And you love it,” she replied with a smirk.

“I’m gonna have to wash the counter, so no I don’t ‘love it’. What do you want? You’re not even scheduled to come in today.”

“I can’t just want to visit my bestest friend ever?” In retrospect, Gaila realized she probably shouldn’t have batted her eyes in an attempt to look innocent. She could never pull off innocent. Jim narrowed his eyes and ducked out of her hold.

“What now?”

With a big sigh, Gaila looked to the heavens in a silent plea for any type of assistance. “We need to talk about Spock Grayson.”

“Huh? Why would we need to talk about Spock?”

“You do realize your voice just raised like three octaves there, right?”

“Wha-” Jim coughed, “No it didn’t.”

“Sure. So how do you feel about the fact that your boyfriend was watching our livestream? ‘Cause you know Lenny wasn’t playing it for himself. I totally can’t picture him voluntarily using technology more complicated than an iPod.”

“You- what? Why are we even-”

“And their tour ends soon, so you’re probably going to want to stop fucking Spock doppelgangers. It’s just not classy.”

“I have not-”

“James Tiberius Kirk if you deny this I will come back there and hit you so hard with the decaf pot that you’ll be back in the hospital.”

“You-! You suck.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“I hate you.”

“I know.” For awhile there was silence.

“What do you want me to do about this?” he finally asked.

“Man up and make a move. Duh.”

“Because it’s so fucking easy. This isn’t like getting a one night stand. I actually...I care what he thinks about me...and my music...and fuck I am so not his type.”

“Jimmy, you’re everybody’s type. That’s why you have 79,462 subscribers on your podcast. I added photos of you. That number is from last weekend. Do you wanna see if you have more?” Gaila asked with a wicked grin on her face.

“Leave. Get out. I have the right to refuse service. Out of the establishment.”

“That’s not gonna-”

“I will throw you out on your ass, I don’t care.”

“Fine, you big baby,” she sighed, getting up to leave, “but you wouldn’t really. Pike would have your head.”

“Yeah, yeah. Promises, promises.”

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

It was another Thursday night at _the Enterprise Coffee House_ and Jim Kirk was playing ‘Set Q’.

 

_You look at me weird_

_Say that I’m queer_

_Act like that’s an insult_

_Like it’s so rare_

 

It had went well, and he had been feeling pretty good until Gaila walked up to him with that look on her face. That look never meant anything good.

“What?” he asked, immediately tense. As if she hadn’t been dropping enough shit on him lately.

“The empty slot for May 3rd’s been filled...really weird that we’re having a Saturday show, right?” Jim knew her attempt to distract him for what it was, and he wasn’t having it.

“Yeah, and who’s playing it?” he asked, staring her in the eye.

Gaila looked away before answering, “ _Starfleet_.”

 

Things were tense on stage when they played a house show the Tuesday after she told Jim the news and Gaila regretted saying a word. She didn’t understand it, but something about Spock and his band got Jim all riled up and weird. She had never seen him so worked up over another person before. Though it’s effects on the crowd were certainly interesting. The mosh pits were huge and frequent.

 

_Bullshit_

_This crap you’re saying_

_Can’t have a thing to do with me_

 

Afterwards she found him stumbling out of a bathroom with a bloody fist, leaving a broken mirror in his wake.

“This is all very SLC! Punk of you, but you just got the cast off. Isn’t it a bit soon for you to be gearing up to get another one?” she asked.

Jim didn’t say anything. He just stared ahead as she cleaned it and wrapped it up. Gaila didn’t know what to say to get him out of this mood. In the end she just watched later as he left with yet another Spock look alike guy. With a sigh, she took another shot and decided to find her own hook up for the evening - worrying about Jim was a real buzzkill sometimes.

 

They had barely gotten back to San Francisco before Spock found himself walking the familiar path from their apartment to _the Enterprise Coffee House_. If anyone had asked, he would have simply claimed that he was tired after having traveled throughout the day, but there was no denying it to himself. He wanted to see Jim.

There was no guarantee that the other man was working, Spock did not know his schedule...but there was an everpresent and illogical hope that that would be the case. Sure enough, by the time he reached the coffee shop he could see that blonde hair and blue eyes through the window. A sudden urge to turn around as if he’d never came swept through him, but he pressed on and entered the building just to be captured in that gaze again.

“You’re back,” Jim said abruptly, stating the obvious.

“Yes,” was all Spock could manage for a response. They remained in those same positions, Jim behind the counter and Spock standing in front of the door, until another customer walked in forcing Spock to move.

He ordered his usual, and watched quietly from a wall post that he was leaning against as Jim interacted with the other customers. His piercings and tattoos could be seen as intimidating to some, but Jim was so easygoing and open. Spock found him fascinating.

It was no surprise that he found himself back the next evening for Jim’s acoustic set. This was ‘Set R’ and with the quickly disappearing alphabet Spock found himself worrying that the performances would soon stop.

“So,” Jim was saying after the set, “my band has a show tomorrow. I know punk isn’t really your thing, but-”

“I would be glad to see you perform. I have never been part of the crowd at a ‘punk show’ and I believe it would be an...enlightening experience,” Spock replied, at the risk of sounding too eager.

“Awesome,” was the only word Jim could think of, and he knew he must have the cheesiest grin on his face but it was hard to give a shit when he knew that Spock would be there tomorrow. And shit, he hadn’t meant to put his hand on Spock’s bicep but okay that happened.

“Indeed.”

Wow, shit. Indeed, apparently. This...was probably not good, Jim realized. How the fuck was he going to concentrate tomorrow?

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

A low buzz of excitement flew through Spock’s veins as he and his bandmates walked into the dingy venue and became immersed into the crowd. They had arrived purposefully late, not interested in hearing the opening acts and too busy to spare the time anyway. Not caring where the others ended up, he put aside his distaste for touching others and pushed his way to the front.

When Jim walked onto the stage the crowd erupted like a vulcano. Being in large crowds usually stressed Spock out, but this time he was too transfixed to notice the press of bodies around him. This was an experience completely different from the brief glance he had gotten that first time backstage, or from the few livestreamed shows he had watched while on tour with _Starfleet_. The energy was unlike anything he had ever felt.

At one point he locked eyes with Jim as the other was singing, and it was as if time slowed down and all of the background noises faded.

 

_I can’t feel greatness_

_Destiny ain’t real_

_Commanding myself_

_Is hard enough_

_I can’t watch you_

_I can’t be what you_

_Want me to be_

 

When it was all over and Spock had found everyone outside of the venue, they were all in different states of shock and awe.

“Shit, why didn’t _Federation_ just sign those kids?” Leonard asked aloud, breaking the temporary spell while simultaneously putting to words the question that everyone had had on their minds.

“I could still totally out play that Gary kid,” he heard Sulu muttering.

“Hey guys, what’d you think?” they were interrupted when Jim and Gaila found them. Despite all of the others vying for Jim’s attention, his eyes were locked onto Spock’s as he continued toward him.

“I think Jim sucked and wasn’t focused at all, if my opinion counts,” Gary piped in, appearing out of nowhere.

“Shut up Gary, you forgot the setlist and were starting each song blind,” Gaila retorted, to which Gary simply shrugged his shoulders. Spock raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, before turning to answer Jim’s question.

“I found your performance to be exceptional. While different in style from your acoustic work, the energy you bring to the stage is…” Spock furrowed his brows, not used to ever being at a loss for words.

“Intense? Borderline catastrophic? Like a siege?” Nyota suggested.

“Heightened, almost profound in a sense,” Spock finished, though he still felt that he was lacking.

“Violent. I think violent sums that right up,” Bones added to the mix.

Conversations started up around them but fell to deaf ears as Jim surged up and kissed Spock soundly without a trace of apology for those around them.

 

No one is very excited to perform their show at _the Enterprise Coffee House_ after the performance they had just seen. To make matters worse, at least for Spock, Jim is manning the counter when they arrive to set up.

“Hey, I never did ask, how was the tour?” Jim asked, in a bid for normalcy.

The answers he received varied greatly. Bones had called it a disaster, while Chekov had claimed it was fun along with Scotty’s exclamation of ‘Exciting’. Spock had called it an ‘interesting experience’, whatever that meant.

It wasn’t until after their set that Jim got to have any real conversations with them about ‘the tour experience’. He had gotten them all free drinks and was leaning against their bus, doing his best but failing not to oogle Spock. Bones kept giving him looks, like he was so obvious. Jim shrugged to himself. He probably was. The real question was; did Spock notice? After their kiss last night - which was totally reciprocal and awesome thanks - everyone in _Starfleet_ had had to leave in order to prepare for the show today. So then what now? Where were they?

“Hey, what are you doing on Wednesday?” Jim asked Spock, trying to ignore his nerves.

“I do not know at present. Why do you ask?”

“Well, we’re playing this house show on Wednesday...it should be a good time. I was wondering if you wanted to come? I mean...you could bring anyone you want, it’s an open invite…”

“I am sure it would be, as you said, a ‘good time’...as long as there are no other engagements I am unaware of, I will...be there. Though I do not see the point in bringing someone else, unless you are referring to my bandmates.”

“Good. That’s good, this will be great,” Jim rambled uncharacteristically for a moment before Spock decided to shut him up with a kiss. Yeah, this might actually work out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING. I know it was really short, but PROOF THAT I CAN FINISH THINGS IF I REALLY CONTROL MYSELF. Please let me know what you thought. I have the rest of the series all mapped out and ready to write once I have a break from college crap, but anything you want for the future will def be considered. Again, THANK YOU FOR READING.


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